Okumen Nyuushuuji
by wild-filly
Summary: Sequel to Okumen Gokurakuchou: Kakashi was never the best with children, so just how will he fare as a father, and not to mention sharing a flat with a bad tempered cripple of a spouse? The answer is badly.


Wild-filly: Aye, it's me again. Well, there were a few…_quite a few_… requests for a sequel. I've pondered for a while over this one, and have decided that I didn't really want to leave Kakashi, Kurotaka and Mukudori alone quite yet. What can I say – I've been enjoying myself too much (grins).

Disclaimer: Wild-filly does not own Naruto, much as she would like to. She does however, own Mukudori and Kurotaka, whatever that means. Nor does she own Nickleback's "Far Away", which she has had stuck on replay throughout the whole of this chapter (dizzy).

By the way, this is set just before the attack on Konoha by Orochimaru – so the Third Hokage is still alive, and Sasuke hasn't taken off yet. The timeline I'm working with is going to become a little skewed, but hey. Never let the truth get in the way of a story, as all good journalists say…

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Okumen Nyuushuuji

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Hatake Kakashi had lived alone for the better part of his life, following the death of his father, and later the supposed death of his partner, Kurotaka. He took a very small pride in the fact that he was self-sufficient and capable of living comfortably in the kind of squalor that most people would use to advertise third-world aid campaigns. Kakashi was a creature of habit, and mess was what he largely inhabited. There was something comforting about not having a bare floor. After all, bare floors could be slippery. Yes, his apartment did get cleaned every so often, but that was never by him. He'd call in pest control or have nurses do it for him while he was unconscious after a tough mission. It was much easier that way, and a lot less painful for all involved.

This however, had all changed.

"The place is revolting Kakashi! How could you let it get like this? And when did you last run a duster over this stuff?" Kurotaka's pale face currently demonstrated an expression of the highest level of disgust, as she stared at a finger that she had just run across the dresser. Or rather, had just run through the dust that layered the dresser. The dresser itself was still buried under there, somewhere, or at least Kakashi presumed it was.

"The last time you were here actually," commented Kakashi. He was perched on the thankfully made bed, Mukudori tentatively sitting next to him. "There was never really much point." Kurotaka's gaze softened. Oh dear. Maybe that had been a rather soppy tact to take, but it still held a grain of truth. She abandoned her probing of the flat to wheel herself over to the other side of Kakashi. The wheelchair gave her a decent vantage point over the bed, slotting easily between the foot of the bed and the door. They had only been in the flat for ten minutes and already she had wheeled herself on a round tour of the place, largely turning her nose up at everything.

"Kakashi-kun," she leant over and purred into his ear, sending a shudder down his spine. He glanced over at the silent Mukudori, staring at something out the window. This would not be a good time - curses!

"Yes, Kuro-chan?" he forced his voice to remain steady. Don't mentally scar the kid…

Kurotaka however, appeared to have no such qualms. Her hand caught Kakashi's, long fingers entwining with his own. Her mouth opened and boldly traced the ridge of his ear. Kakashi visibly paled, a line of sweat breaking out along his brow. He felt the curve of her lips twist into a smile. Her breath rasped gently across his line of hearing, as though catching in her chest. Despite himself, he let a shiver of pleasure trail lingeringly through his body, tickling his spine. Kurotaka chuckled softly, taking Kakashi's chin in her hands and turning him, forcing the taller ninja to look her in the eye.

"We need a bigger apartment, Kakashi-kun…"

And with that, he fell off the bed.

So, other than now being in the market for a house, Kakashi was now also met with some much larger problems. The first of which he was now having to go and take care of, in the form of marching up to the Hokage's office and informing the world that Kurotaka wasn't dead. Death, after all, creates a large amount of paperwork. Kurotaka was going to be one of those questionably fortunate people who could take care of it for themselves.

The bespectacled ninja that was hunched at the desk in the entrance rooms of the Hokage's spacious office glanced up at Kakashi curiously as he entered, pushing Kurotaka's wheelchair along in front of himself. She had made a right fuss about that, but in the end had given in. It was something to do with the way that he threatened to carry her bridal style if she didn't let him at least push the stupid chair. For a moment she'd looked as though she might take him up on that offer, but at Mukudori's horrified expression, they'd both made the silent agreement not to go that far. Until Mukudori was out of eyeshot at least.

The white-haired child in question had chosen to remain in the disgrace that was an apartment, playing with her collection of wooden dolls that Kurotaka had carved for her in her idle hours in the chair. Kakashi was slightly grateful for it. He had never handled any children other than Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke. And the prospect that his own daughter might be similar to them was more than a little daunting.

"Can I help you?" trilled the secretary, perching the inked brush neatly into its holder. "The Third is very busy at the moment."

"This is a somewhat important matter," tried Kakashi, but Kurotaka butted in before he could finish.

"The Hokage thinks I'm dead. He also didn't pay me for the last mission I was sent on. I'm here to collect my backpay, with interest."

The smaller ninja stared at her in shock. Kakashi rolled his eyes, safe in the fact that Kurotaka didn't have eyes on the back of her head with which to glare at him.

"I'll…I'll go and see if he's free," rushed the secretary, and he hurried off into one of the corridors. Kurotaka yawned, scratching her chin absentmindedly. "How do you think this'll go?" she queried mildly.

"Good question," murmured Kakashi, crouching down at her ear level. "I want to ask him why he never sent out a more concerted effort to find you. I was the only one that went out, but I could never trace you."

"Not even with the dogs?" she questioned, one eyebrow raised.

He shook his head. "There was blood all over the clearing. They're useless enough when there's one trail to follow, let alone multiple blood splatters and trails that wore off into the forest. I tried to track you." He stopped, "how on earth did you end up in that village?"

She shrugged. "I'll tell you and the Hokage at the same time. It'll save my voice that way, and I'll only have to answer the question once." Kakashi shook his head again. She hadn't changed. More than eleven years apart and she still hadn't lost that coldly pragmatic attitude. Fortunately, that wasn't the only attitude she had to offer. Another couple of minutes ticked by, measured by the oversized Konoha leaf insignia that also doubled as a clock. The secretary ninja returned in a haggard flurry of paper.

Squinting incredulously over his glasses, he waved his arm at the waiting Shinobi, signaling for them to follow him. He didn't say anything. As Kakashi saw it, it was as if the younger man was too surprised to speak. He wondered haphazardly just what the Hokage's reaction had been. Probably one of shame and bewilderment, after all, the hallowed village leader wasn't supposed to make mistakes like declaring someone dead without their actually being deceased.

The large wheels of Kurotaka's chair whirred softly down the passageway, polished floorboards squeaking under the rubber treads. Kakashi padded quietly after the secretary. He knew fine where the Third's office was, but this was obviously one of the little secretary's jobs. He might as well stroke the ego of the other ninja just a little; after all, it could come in useful later.

The Hokage's door was already open when Kakashi rounded the corner, pushing Kurotaka before him. The venerable Third was standing in front of his desk, wide brimmed hat placed on top of the papers that were sprawled there. For the first time in Kakashi's life, he saw something else in the Hokage's eyes. It was regret. It was pain. He couldn't see Kurotaka's face from where he was standing, but he could hear her breathing slow, rasping slightly in her throat. Heard her swallow, and saw her head raise, as if she were staring down an enemy. Knew that there was something else in her eyes that was affecting the Hokage so.

"Yumenimo Kurotaka," muttered the Hokage, stunned.

"Hokage-sama," she inclined her head. There was still a note of reverence in her voice, even after all these years. She drew a deep breath, and Kakashi knew that he could hear something else in her voice, something that echoed what was so strident in the Hokage's expression. "You didn't look for me."

Well, there was nothing that you really could say to that. Kakashi almost pitied the Hokage, as the older man lowered his head and placed one hand on his desk, leaning on it as if overcome with weariness. The Hokage sighed, shaking his head. He looked up slowly, eyes flickering once to Kakashi, and then back to Kurotaka.

"No," he confirmed. "I did not."

She nodded, as if confirming something in her head. "You didn't offer Kakashi any assistance to find me."

"No," he said again simply. "I offered him no assistance. No body else believed that you might still be alive, and it was impractical for the village at the time. The war didn't end with the attempted coup on Konoha. Kakashi will verify that for you."

Oh great. Move the focus to _me_ now. Kakashi shuffled around slightly to give Kurotaka the option of glaring at him, standing to the side of the wheelchair. It was the only courteous thing to do really. "Hai, Hokage-sama. We had to defend against multiple raids over the next two years. I was on missions near constantly, and my searching was limited to whatever free time I could receive. Coupled with my dogs' inability to pick up your scent, and no one else's willingness to believe that you were alive, I lost hope to an extent." It was painful to admit, and probably just as painful to hear, but she had to hear it either way. It wasn't as if she hadn't had long enough to consider her options, out in veritable exile.

Kurotaka didn't say anything though, just watching Kakashi with a look of unnerving compassion. She seemed to understand perfectly, where another person would have dissolved into screams of rage and frustration. Maybe that was already out of her system. It tore at him inside to think of how many nights she must have mourned her solitude.

"What happened, Kurotaka?" asked the Hokage finally. There was a curious twinge in his words. "How did it come to pass that you not only survived your wounds, but also managed to disappear? If it hadn't been for the extent of the damage that you took, then I would have searched for you more thoroughly, as opposed to believing you dead and your body moved by scavengers or the disposal groups that take care of the remains of fallen Shinobi."

"Well…" she trailed off, expression thoughtful. "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure about what happened on that day. My memories are hazy to say the least. I can remember fighting with some overdressed opponent. He managed to get out of the way of the Chidori, and I took a katana here-" She pointed to a spot just above her belly button, "and through my knees. Everything after that is a bit hazy. I guess just because I was losing so much blood. Kakashi was there, and then it all went black."

"When I came around again, I was so wrapped up in blankets that I couldn't move or see. I'm a little claustrophobic, so I struggled, but realised at the same time that my legs hurt too much to do it. Scratch that; I couldn't move my legs at all. At that point, I think I panicked. Someone came and held my head still and a couple of others pinned my arms down. They gave me water mixed with some kind of drug, and I slept again."

"The next time I woke up, I could see. I was in a tent, out in the open somewhere. I could hear the wind and rain outside. There was a small fire nearby, and I had heated rocks about me so that I wouldn't catch cold. There was an elderly woman near me, who told me not to worry. Her name was Moeko, and she took care of me for the next couple of months. She told me that I'd been found near-death in a clearing while they were making a pilgrimage from the frontlines. Not every family sent their young men into war willingly, and they were part of a deserter group, heading back to their homes in remote Fire Country. They thought me a deserter, or a victim of a raiding party when they found me, and decided to bring me along."

"Moeko told me that we'd been traveling for over a week now. I'd been carried on a litter, my wounds cauterized and cared for every hour. I was impressed, heart filled with gratitude for their kindness. There were many in that group; at least thirty deserters and a collection of women and older children who had come to find them, secreting them out of the army and concealing them under the guise of a religious pilgrimage. I came to know that they all lived in the same village, and that they were going to take me there too. They believed me to be a victim of a raiding party, and I kept my mouth shut. They voiced a great dislike for ninja. I couldn't afford becoming a target, not when I was still so anemic and unable to walk."

"The village they brought me to was very far from Konoha, I knew that much. Unfortunately, I was still very disorientated, so I wasn't able to identify where I was, nor how I could possibly get back. When they brought me there, I was accepted with open arms. I had been able to win over most everyone in the deserter group to my cause, mostly by pretending to be a different person. I was demure, shy, and well educated. Completely unthreatening, and also somewhat useful. Not very many of them were literate, so I proposed to teach them once my strength returned. They took me to the village healers, and there I stayed for the rest of the year."

"They told me that the wound in my chest had skimmed some internal organs, causing them to bleed. However, the wound itself was not going to kill me, since it had been cauterized and sterilised near religiously by my rescuers. I was given blood transfusions in their most rudimentary form and told to stay quiet, not that I had much choice. I also contracted fever, and suffered from splitting headaches and vomiting. The days began to blur again. When I got over it finally, they told me that the worst was over. The chest wound was healing cleanly, and now the only problem was my legs. The katana had severed tendons and caused the bones some exceptionally complicated damage. A long story short – they hadn't a clue how to fix it. They closed up the wounds and got me a wheelchair, and that was the end of that."

"By this time though, they had all become aware that I was not only one person." Kurotaka faltered, shooting a sidelong glance at Kakashi. He caught the implication immediately. Was she going to tell the Hokage everything?

"What do you mean by that?" questioned the Third. He still seemed absorbed with a grief that Kakashi couldn't name. Kakashi himself couldn't place what he was feeling. The idea of Kurotaka's suffering was so debilitating it was alien; how could she have gone through so much when she was now sitting right beside him? It was incredible, unbelievable and exceptionally wrenching.

"I mean that I was pregnant on the day that I was supposedly killed, and still was. The internal bleeding hadn't killed the child, and she was still developing. The healers were trying to convince me that it wasn't worth the risks; that I could die if I lost any more blood, but I insisted. There was no chance that I was going to kill this child, if indeed it were all I had left of Konoha." She left off the phrase that Kakashi knew was there; _and of Kakashi_. The Hokage doubtless knew that he was the father, but she wasn't going to spell that out for him.

"That December, Mukudori was born. It was not an easy process. In fact, I had to use one of the soldier pills that I had managed to keep hidden in my clothing in order to survive the birth at all. The healers were amazed, but by the spring, Mukudori and I moved into our own home. I was assisted from every angle possible by the villagers. I had become something of a mascot, as much as I am embarrassed to say. I was later able to repay their kindness by teaching reading, writing and mathematics, as well as anything else they asked me for. Other than that, I have lived in waiting; waiting to be found, or waiting for a chance to go back to Konoha. I couldn't walk, didn't know precisely where I was, and there were no solid roads that I could steer my wheelchair down. And besides, they wouldn't have let me leave. I was too weak, they all said. Think about the girl, they said. She needs a place to grow up that's safe from the wars. Their opinion of ninjas had softened now that the fighting was drawing to a close, at least."

"And that was that," she said, an air of finality in her voice. "I waited, and finally, Kakashi and his team showed up. I don't know who was more surprised, to be honest."

Kakashi blinked. He didn't know what to say. The Hokage seemed similarly perplexed.

"Kurotaka. You have been through a lot, and the village certainly let you down at this time," the Third began slowly. "What do you want?"

Now it was the crippled kunoichi's turn to look surprised. "I want to be alive again. I want a chance to walk again. I want to be recognized as who I am. Nothing more. Just for things to go back to how they were." How naïve it sounded, Kakashi thought. One cannot come back from the dead and expect everything to be fine. It was going to be a painful process, and a confusing one for all involved. As for walking again… he'd pitch together every coin he had to find her a doctor that could help. Aside from that, he'd have to be her shadow and her aid.

How very different it was all going to be.

The Hokage nodded. "Your name will be re-added to the Konoha registry, and your deeds and pay forwarded to your address. As the Uchiha clan has recently suffered a heavy blow in the form of a massacre, I believe that you may re-register yourself as a member of the clan. You will not be persecuted for it anymore." So the old man _had_ known that she was Uchiha. At the offer though, Kurotaka looked positively scandalized.

"No thanks," she snorted, "I've shunned that name for too long as it is. I don't care if people know that I've inherited the bloodline, but I refuse to be branded with it." Still the old smart about being a bastard, Kakashi noted with some fondness. With an ego the size of Kurotaka's, any suggestion that she wasn't wanted or good enough was never going to be forgotten, or forgiven.

"As for your healing," continued the Hokage, oblivious to Kurotaka's retort, "you may see every healer in the village. If you have to travel out to see a specialist, I shall see that the costs are covered. All Shinobi are insured, after all. And you have been through more than enough to merit free treatment." Kurotaka nodded agreeably.

"Is there anything else?" he asked again. "You have been very silent, Kakashi," he noted suddenly.

Kakashi felt the heat rise to his masked face, "actually, there is one thing."

"What is it?" he could feel Kurotaka and the Third's eyes pivot to fix on him.

"Could I get a loan for a new house?"

…………..

wild-filly: It's good to be back (grinning) Please! Comments, suggestions, desires for plot twists would all be intensely welcomed, as will outright praise… not that I expect that of course, but my ego does welcome it.


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